


Look Closely at the Night Sky and You’ll Catch a Glimpse of Venus

by DevinBourdain



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Disability, Leonard "Bones" McCoy Whump, Minor James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy, Permanent Injury, Prisoner of War, Rock and a Hard Place, Service Dogs, Slavery, Trauma, Unrequited Love, mostly due to consent issues, post Nero, pre darkness, questionable parenting, what it means to love someone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28987029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevinBourdain/pseuds/DevinBourdain
Summary: Leonard had said he woke up with a bad feeling, that they should just go back to bed and call the whole day off. Jim should have listened. Now in the wake of tragedy, Jim is faced with a life altering decision he might not be able to live with. He supposes this is why he's governed his life on the principle that it's better to remain unattached and do the leaving than get invested and be one that gets left.The someone needs to take care of the doctor fic that seems to be in short supply.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 34
Kudos: 36





	1. Where the West was all but Won

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters are not mine, just borrowed for this story.  
> Warnings: language and violence.  
> Comments are always welcome and appreciated

Leonard actively pushes a strawberry around his bowl of oatmeal like it's somehow going to make the meal more appealing. It's not the oatmeal's fault, Leonard's just in a funk. It started last night with what should have been a sprit lifting vid chat with his daughter being hijacked by his battle-axe of an ex wife. She was ranting about Joanna's poor grades and truancy at school, which for the record were still impressively good grades and only two absents. Yet somehow that translated into Joanna spiralling out of control like her father. Leonard thinks there are worse people she could turn out like, mainly her mother, but he'd rather his little girl be better than both of them. It doesn't help that his sonic shower broke this morning or that he awoke to the apologetic message of one of his research assistance explaining how they botched a series of test samples setting back his research by a couple of months. Disaster is rolling in and the Enterprise is steering right towards it. Leonard can feel it in his bones.

Leonard's perpetual rain cloud, makes Jim and Scotty's light-hearted enthusiasm for life, all the more insulting. Last thing on Leonard's mind are wild nights on shore leave and Jim's past questionable recreational activities. Life is fraught with danger, why go looking for more? Other people's happiness just seems like a bitch slap today. He's only half listening but he has a feeling Jim's carefree attitude about the topic is going to piss him off just because.

"Scotty, you're going to love it there. The locals have this one sexual position," enthuses Jim, a big smile over takes his face. "Let's just say, it'll make you believe in a higher power," he adds with a satisfied sigh.

"That higher power will be penicillin," mutters Leonard as he takes a sip of his bitter coffee. Of course the replicator only botched _his_ order this morning. He makes a mental note to stock up on antibiotics and schedule Jim for a round of inoculations before leave even starts.

Leonard wishes he could be as laissez-faire about one night stands as everyone else but that's never been his thing. Normally he doesn't judge- each to their own; if they can live with their choices so can Leonard, but watching Jim carry on with anyone and everyone seems to pick at Leonard's soul. He tells himself he shouldn't care so much. That never seems to work. He never had a shot anyway.

Did he even really want one?

"You have something to add about the women of Den-ova, Bones?" asks Jim bemused. It's hard to ignore the permanent rain cloud at the end of the table. It's even harder to ignore that natural instinct to poke at it.

"Of the women? The women no, but _you_ James T Kirk, are a whore." It needed to be said. That and misery loves company so Leonard's taking someone down with him; might as well be the Captain. The breakfast table in the officer's mess is hardly the place Leonard wants to hear about Jim's numerous sexual exploits. _Especially_ today. It shouldn't bug him period, but it stings a little to watch Jim lavish attention on every other breathing organism that knows how to flaunt curves or swagger. Leonard's trying extra hard today to not think to hard about why.

"I prefer the term slut," counters Jim casually. "Sluts give it away for free, which I do. Whore implies I get paid. It's a bit more unseemly." He makes the effort to look put off by the idea. Leonard's feather are already ruffled, Jim can't help but ruffle them a little more. It's a dangerous sport but Jim enjoys it.

Leonard rolls his eyes. "Wouldn't want to accuse you of having entrepreneurial sense."

Jim folds his hands behind his head, puffing out his chest as he leans back comfortably in his chair like it was a throne. "When I'm done, everyone's satisfied. It's a service I'm happy to provide," adds Jim gleefully.

"Humanity thanks you for your service," grumbles Leonard. He's just waiting for the day they find a civilization that communicates through sexual acts or whose custom for forming relations with new species is an orgy. Jim will be in his glory and the Federation will have the best allies locked in perfectly.

"Doctor, to invoke one of your colourful euphemisms, I believe you awoke this morning in the incorrect bed," suggests Spock, looking pointedly at the doctor. The Captain and Doctor often exchange biting banter but there seems to be a sharper edge to McCoy's tone this morning.

"Side," corrects Leonard over Scotty and Jim's giggles. He doubts they're laughing at Spock's error though. "I woke up on the wrong _side_ of the bed." He doesn't have it in him to deal with this level of monotony or immaturity today. "Not someone else's bed."

"Indeed," agrees Spock.

"Maybe that's the problem, Bones," injects Jim, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Scotty tries his best to hide a snicker. "You could join Scotty on shore leave."

Leonard glares hard at Jim and Scotty until their bemused smiles melt off their faces. "Is that your way of sayin' I'm cranky, Spock?" demands Leonard, pointing his spoon at the Vulcan for emphasis. He's not going to engage in this childish game with Jim. Not today.

"You do look more ornery than usual, Bones," agrees Jim.

"That's because this day's doomed. Or haven't you been listening?" continues Leonard. He regaled them all with his tales of woe and warnings of how the universe wasn't through yet, but the conversation quickly turned to happier prospects and fornication.

"Your _gut feeling_ is no more a method for determining the outcome of the day then the casting of bones or the reading of palms, Doctor," says Spock with a tiredness that only Vulcans living among humans seems to possess.

"Are you comparing me to a voodoo doctor?"

"Nonsense, Doctor, you lack the ritualistic bone through the nose."

Leonard glares at Spock before turning his gaze on Jim who's in danger of choking on his eggs from laughing. He'll probably split his pants if he has to jump over the table to give Jim the Heimlich. "Mark my words, Mr Spock, the only thing this day is missing is the looming black crows to herald our impending demise," rants Leonard. "I'm tellin' ya Jim, we should just crawl back into bed and cancel the whole day."

"Really, Doctor, if we forfeited everyday you simply had a bad feeling, we would never leave space dock," cautions Spock.

"He has a point, Bones," concedes Jim, before stabbing the hash brown off of Leonard's plate and stuffing it in his mouth. Though the crawling into bed part is appealing.

The lights dim to signal yellow alert. "Gentlemen," says Jim getting to his feet first. Duty calls.

"See, it's starting already," protest Leonard as he follows Jim, Scotty and Spock to the turbo lift.

"Sulu, report," Jim demands as they step out onto the bridge. He heads directly to his chair.

Sulu jumps out of the captain's chair, giving his report. "We have a vessel emitting a distress signal. They are in need of medical assistance and need help evacuating their ship but there's some radiation interference. Transporters can't get a lock and we can't get an exact read on the damage. Visuals show some hull damage."

Jim turns to Spock, who is already busy at his station. "What are we looking at?"

"The ships designation belongs to the Karten but the design is Reptelian. There does seem to be significant damage to their engines and several hull breaches. There are some readings I do not understand that are making ascertaining a crew count difficult," reports Spock, with a curious expression.

With Spock busy deciphering a mystery, Jim turns to Scotty. "I want you to take an engineering team over in two shuttles, see if you can't help stabilize things and help evacuate those in need of medical treatment."

Scotty nods.

"I know it's M'Benga on away team rotation," starts Jim.

"It is," confirms Leonard.

"But I'd feel better about you leading the medical away team." Jim hits the comm. button for sickbay. It's not that M'Benga is in capable but Leonard has more experience in rescue mission and with time an important factor, Jim wants to put the Enterprise's best foot forward. "I'll have a medical team join you in the transporter room," he adds.

"Yes, Captain," says Leonard, following Scotty to the turbo lift. The universe strikes again.

"Be careful," bids Jim, watching Leonard and Scotty depart for the shuttle bay. He relays the order down to sick bay to have a team meet them in the shuttle bay along with Scotty's team and a security detail.

Jim shifts in his chair, watching on the main viewer as the shuttle docks with the ailing ship. He's itching to join them, to be part of the action but Starfleet is watching its newest and youngest Captain like a hawk and Jim's going to save his infractions for something bigger than a straight forward rescue his talented team can manage. He waits with anticipation as Scotty confirms they've docked and started looking for survivors and the engine room. He can hear Spock studiously working to try and explain the readings that have piqued his interest. Sitting on the bridge waiting while his people do the work is torture.

"Heading down to engineering," reports Scotty over the open comm.

"Two dead bodies in the docking area. Taking half the medical team with me to the front of the ship," adds Leonard. The bridge is probably the best place to start looking for injured in a situation like this.

Time seems to drag on as the bridge waits for updates from the rescue party. Jim stares at the view screen like he can change the outcome of whatever the away party is facing. The longer the silence, the grimmer the prospect of survivors and saving that ship; he's starting to give Leonard's doom and gloom a second thought.

"There's debris blocking access to engineering. We'll have to clear it first. Haven't seen any crew members yet," informs Scotty. The bridge can hear the clanging and banging of the rescue party working in the background.

Surely they should have found someone by now. It's a medium size ship, there has to be more than just the few bodies they found at the docking port. Jim hits the comm. button. "Bones, any survivors yet?" he asks impatiently. Someone made the call. There has to be someone alive over there; they need to turn this day around; they need a win.

"Ji-m there's… It's a … -ip," crackles over the comms.

"Say again Bones," repeats Jim looking at Uhura for answers. He's on his feet; pacing would look too much like worry so he stands by his chair and presses the comm. button extra hard- just in case.

Uhura tries to clear up the signal, turning dials and flipping channels.

"… evacu- … emerg…"

"Can you get a lock on them yet," demands Jim, unease growing deep in his gut. Desperation is fighting to crack his skilfully carved command face. Jim tilts his head to the side station signalling Chekov to help work on boosting the transport signal over the interference.

"Captain," yells Spock jumping to his feet, realization dawning on him like a glacial shower of dread. "The vessel is actually Orion."

"Get the away team out of there, now," demands Jim, frantically turning to Uhura. She's quick to open a communication channel to the away team and issue the emergency order to get off the ship. There's no response leaving the bridge crew to watch helplessly as the vessel jumps to warp, leaving only one of the shuttles drifting in its wake.

"Mayday, mayday," echoes over the open comm. in Scotty's voice. "It' was a trap. That slave ship just warped away with half of our people."

* * *

**One year later**

The cool chlorinated water rolls down Jim's face as he sucks in a needed breath. Gliding through the water he touches the end of the pool, turning to go back the other way. It's around lap seventy that his arms and lungs start to burn; a slight improvement from the month before, and the month before that. He pushes on, aiming for one hundred laps; never more, never less. It's a good way to start the morning, which always seems to come far too early.

Technically the start of his morning is re-watching the incident interviews. He doesn't know what he expects to find. He's watched them a million times. He knows them word for word now, as familiar as a favourite song and as painful as a death dirge. Still, he prays for that one piece of information that's somehow eluded him and will shine a light on all the answers.

It's one of the reasons he started swimming. He can get lost in the rhythmic motion and let his mind wander, turning the information over for new angles. He needs an outlet for this simmering rage that's been threatening to spill over into a full on boil. Time is not doing the trick. To be fair it's also the real reason he started swimming. All that anger came to a head in the gym, getting him kick out and banned from the boxing ring for breaking Lieutenant Michaels's face. Michaels hadn't done anything wrong other than agree to spar with Jim, to work through whatever was eating at Jim that morning. It was strongly recommended Jim take up a new hobby, preferably one less violent and a little more solitary.

Jim touches the start wall for the hundredth time, letting his body assume a more horizontal position. He bobs there for a moment, taking regular steady breaths before pulling his goggles off. A rather well polished black standard issue boot is resting at the edge of the pool. Jim's gaze follows the intruding boot up towards the well tailored pant leg and up to the unmistakable uniform shirt. Jim's surprised that the only emotion his body seems compelled to feel at his surprise guest is irritation.

"Good morning, Captain," greets the Vulcan in his usual precise and bland tone.

"I'm not your captain anymore, Spock," grumbles Jim, pulling himself out of the pool. His temper is costing him everything lately.

Spock tips his head to the side. "Captain Pike's command of the Enterprise is only temporary," reminds Spock. Neither acknowledges that the temporary has dragged on for six months now, well passed the proposed three months it was estimated it would take to find the missing crew members. "That is why I have come here today."

"Save it," says Jim tiredly. It's bordering on cruel now. Hope is slowly poisoning his soul. He goes to reach for his towel sitting on the bench finding it isn't there anymore. Spock holds out the towel and Jim snatches it back, rubbing down his hair. "Everybody's got a lead and they all go nowhere. We've recovered four of our people and dozens more kidnapped Federation citizens, but none of them are Bones. I'm sure you'll go and rescue dozens more but the common theme will be they won't be Bones either." It's almost like the universe delights in taking away the people Jim holds dear.

In the beginning there was no shortage of sightings and leads; nothing that panned out to the satisfactory conclusion Jim was looking for- his missing people, home and safe, all of them. He lost eight people that day and one confirmed dead on the remaining shuttle. The first month they managed to find three- two alive and another dead. It took two more months to find one more of the missing Enterprise crew member. Everyone told Jim he should be grateful he even recovered four crew members from slavers. Jim doesn't feel very lucky, especially when one of the four remaining missing crew is McCoy. Jim would like to think he would have fought that relentlessly for any one of his crew, but there's this nagging doubt that only Leonard's absence pushed him over the edge. Jim's scared to wonder if he would have put his command in jeopardy if he wasn't so hell bent on finding his friend.

The search has gone pretty cold since Pike took over command, after Jim beat the Orion prisoner half to death in a bid for answers. They grounded Jim for that, taking the greatest weapon in his arsenal for searching away from him. That interrogation led to the recovery or one more crew member and seven other Starfleet officers taken from another ship, so Jim doesn't feel all that bad for it. It wasn't Leonard though. He knows Pike has kept the search active for as long as possible, looking for clues around Starfleet assigned missions which started three month ago for the Enterprise. Everyone seems to have moved on- not Jim.

Jim could be back in the Captain's seat but his return to the Enterprise is contingent on not actively resuming the search. Starfleet can no longer allocate resources for three missing members.

Jim throws his towel over his shoulder and starts to walk away.

"This lead is about Dr McCoy."

Jim stops cold. A moment of weakness over takes him. He wants so desperately to soak up every detail, to know without a doubt this will be the time Leonard comes home. Deep down he knows that isn't true. They've been chasing a ghost for months now. The universe is infinite and the slavery network vast and secretive. Leonard is either dead or so lost in it, he'll never be found.

That thought keeps Jim up at night- Leonard out there somewhere, waiting for Jim to find him. He tries not to imagine what horrors Leonard is being made to endure, but he's read the reports about the experiences of Orion slaves. After the first month, death is always preferable. Jim fervently hopes Leonard was granted mercy in whatever form it may take.

Jim can't endure pretending a happy ending is going to take shape. Jim takes a deep breath, fortifying his resolve. His hand clenches tightly around his towel. "Talk to me when you bring him home." Jim walks away, never looking back. He doubts he will see Spock again.

* * *

Jim lines his cue stick up with the cue ball, pulling it back several times as he double checks for a better shot, before committing with a definitive thunk. The ball shoots forward on course sending the seven ball on its journey home before courting the five ball into the corner pocket. He washes down his success with a gulp from his condensation laden mug.

"So this is what you're doing with your life?" asks Pike with infinite patience. He's getting tired of pulling this kid out of bars and back alleys. Jim has exactly three settings and for the last year, he's pretty much stalled in self destruction mode.

"I wanted to be a captain, but they took my ship," sneers Jim, lining up his next shot. He'd seen Pike walk in, but since Leonard isn't in tow, they have no business to discuss. He told Spock as much two months ago. Jim's full up on lectures and pardons and false hope.

Pike pinches the bridge of his nose. An all too familiar headache is coming on again. "They didn't take your ship," he says, tiredly. They did, but it was supposed to be temporary; until Jim got his shit together and proved he could handle things without going off the handle because it's his friend was among the missing.

"Sure looks like you're sitting in my seat," Jim snaps as he makes another shot. It could have been worse. Pike is more likely to give the Enterprise back than anyone else in Starfleet. It doesn't make it any less painful though, nor does it make Jim any less helpless in his quest to bring Leonard home.

Pike really doesn't want to get into this circular argument again. He can sympathize; there are people in his life he'd do anything for too. But what Jim did, can't be ignored; especially when he refuses to apologise for it and is threatening to do it all again given the chance. Leonard wouldn't want Jim to go down that path. "Aren't you going to ask me how it went?"

Jim makes a show of looking behind Pike for Leonard who still isn't home. The Enterprise left almost two months ago on this latest hunch Spock spoke of. Jim maybe persona non grata with HQ, but he still has a few friends onboard, and they would have sent word if they'd been successful. Jim can't bear to hear anymore pipe dreams. "No," he says returning t his game.

Pike's not sure if he's disappointed in Jim's response or not. It might be for the best; what he has to say is a tough pill to swallow under these circumstances. "We found him."

Something tightens in Jim's gut as his breath catches. Is the appropriate response to laugh or cry? His body can do neither. Instead, "How long has he been…" tumbles out of his mouth before he chokes on the last word. Leonard can only be dead; Pike would be in much better spirits if he was bringing home the doctor alive and whole. This feels like a consolation prize for missing a funeral.

"He's alive," says Pike, solemnly.

That's all Jim needs to hear. He's half way to the door on wings he didn't know he possessed. "What are you waiting for?" asks Jim when Pike isn't hot on his heels. This is all his birthdays and Christmas mornings all rolled into one. He's been waiting a year to wrap his arms around that dumb son of a bitch and tell Leonard that Jim's the only one allowed to play hero like that.

"There's a complication, son," sighs Pike. And isn't that like drop kicking a puppy? He can see Jim wilt from here.

Jim's world starts to narrow and tunnel. He's really starting to hate that endearment.

"You'd better sit down."


	2. All Alone Smoking his Last Cigarette

Jim doesn't remember running into Starfleet Medical, leaving Pike about half way down the corridor. Or how his path to get to Leonard led him past the Enterprise senior staff, who are all patiently camped out in the waiting area to hear word from the specialized medical team M'Benga had standing by when they returned. The details, of the too white room that screams clinical detachment or the somber faces of the medical assistants as they stand unobtrusively against the wall behind the lead doctor, go unnoticed. All Jim can really see is raggedy black hair poking up and the glass of the observation window that's keeping him from his friend. Leonard's slumped on a bio bed sitting passively while doctors poke and prod. Jim tries to tell himself there's a non horrible reason why Leonard isn't bitching about being a patient and that he can doctor himself far better than these medics that look barely old enough to tie their shoes ever could.

Over a year apart and now only separated by a wall, Jim feels like Leonard is still galaxies away. For all that it looks like Leonard, undernourished and battle worn, it's like looking at a stranger. That spark of life wrapped protectively in grumpy concern is gone leaving a bland lump of clay yet to be sculpted. Jim watches the assessment, desperate to find any glimpse of his best friend.

_It will be okay_ , he tells himself. A year at the hands of slavers is bound to leave anyone a little shell shocked and out of sorts. _This doesn't mean anything._ A little rest and time with his friends and family and Leonard will be as good as new. Jim will be able to get his crew together, his ship back and they can continue on like they never missed a step- Leonard standing behind the captain's chair bitching the whole way.

"Jim, we really need to talk about this," snaps Pike, finally catching up. He grabs Jim by the sleeve, pulling him back to look Pike in the eye.

Jim flinches like he's been burned, staring at Pike's hand like it's a personal betrayal. There's nothing Pike has to say that Jim wants to hear. They're wrong, they're all wrong.

"Captain Kirk?" asks a white lab coat clad individual as they step out into the hall.

Jim nods, unable to find his voice or swallow down the lump in his throat that crept up when he watched that ship jump to warp and has saw fit to stay ever since. Pike hasn't let go of his arm.

"We have a preliminary assessment we'd like to go over with you if we could," says the doctor.

" _Jim,_ " warns Pike. There's no turning back once the kid walks into that room and Pike is loath to send him in blind. He tried to explain on the drive to Starfleet medical but the words that he could come up with weren't penetrating Jim's head past Leonard is alive. He knows M'Benga's assessment intimately and doubts this team is going to find anything different.

Jim yanks his arm free and glares like he's facing off against an enemy. All he can see is the gold uniform from an organization that was instrumental in stopping him from finding Leonard in a timely manner. Every minute, Leonard wasn't safe onboard the Enterprise is a personal failure on Jim's part, further amplified by the shackles Starfleet placed on him during the search. Whatever diagnosis awaits, it can't be any worse then what Leonard's survived. He failed to protect Leonard and thus has forfeited any protection anyone wants to offer him now.

Jim holds his head high and marches behind the doctor towards the firing squad.

"Our test results have concluded there's significant brain damage…" explains the doctor, once he corrals Jim into a private office.

The room dulls out in a murky grey haze. The doctor's steady litany of long term prognosis and specialized care facilities slows and mutes until it just sounds like the thudding of Jim's heart. Eventually that fades into a buzzing that grows louder and louder until it's the only thing in existence.

Every horror mentioned is like a knife slicing through Jim's skin, flaying him alive and carving him up in some mockery of a man. It will never cut deep enough though to adequately punish him for his failings. Jim played captain and his best friend paid for it.

The thing is, it can't be this bad, it just can't, because this is McCoy they're talking about; Leonard who's always cautious, and preaching safety and warnings while Jim's jumping blindly into fires. There's a symmetry to the universe, Leonard heals and protects people and Jim takes the risks, plays the hero with the glory and the guts, because he knows Leonard will catch him. Jim goes out in the blaze of glory because that's all he has; Leonard lives the long and happy life because he has everything worth living for. The universe got this one wrong- it should be Jim in that examination room.

The words that do stick out are "barbaric" and "lobotomy gone wrong." Time becomes incomprehensibly long, giving birth to universes and watching them die in the space between breaths, while somehow feeling like a sieve that could never hold on to a second of time. Jim watches his life play out in thousands of scenarios only to have each one wash away as the tidal wave of despair crashes down and reshapes the beach after it capsizes Jim's ship.

"Do you have any questions so far?"

Questions? Of course he has questions, millions of them. And only one person he'd trust for the answers. Jim sits there numbly. He can't convince his lips to form a single thought. He manages to minutely shake his head. Leonard chose him to be his medical proxy and he can't figure out a single thing to do or the right course of action here. Jim's just waiting to wake up on a barroom floor nursing a killer hangover and forget this alcohol endued nightmare ever happened.

He has the full mission report and corroborating medical reports in his hand and he can't bring himself to read past the first line to get at all the gory details. Jim's done his fair share or research over the last year into the conditions and experiences of Orion slaves. It was unsettling reading the information then, now when he actually has to lay eyes on the final result of that kind of treatment it's all become unimaginable.

"Can I see him?" asks Jim. Maybe they're wrong and when Jim walks in there Leonard will light up and ask what the hell took so damn long to find him? Jim will take Leonard home, stuff a hot meal in him and tuck him into bed, camping out on the couch until Leonard decides he wants to talk about what happened with Jim. Leonard's one of the most stubborn and resilient people Jim's met; if anyone can survive that hell, it's Leonard.

None of that happens when Jim walks in. The nurses and medics looks up, offering sad smiles like Jim's come to pay his respects to a terminal family member. Leonard doesn't look at him. In fact, Leonard doesn't make eye contact with anyone. His eyes stay glued to the floor with this blank impassive look on his face.

"Bones?" he says in this small broken voice that sounds like it belongs to someone else. Hope lives and dies on that word. Leonard doesn't crack a smile or even look up at Jim; he just continues his impersonation of a blob.

Jim can't help himself, his fingers are twitching, feet moving and his damn brain has forgotten how to breathe or adhere to basic social norms. He crosses the room in four quick steps wrapping his arms firmly around Leonard and squeezing him tightly. There's something therapeutic in feeling Leonard's solid bones, even if he's underweight now, and smelling that faint smell that is uniquely Leonard that no time in captivity could steal away. It feels so safe and right hugging Leonard, like the troubles of the world are vanquished. Jim never wants to let go.

He also wants to puke. Leonard doesn't reciprocate. His harms hang loosely at his sides and his gaze stays firmly adverted as he holds his breath in anticipation of something he expects Jim to do. Tension creeps up in Leonard's shoulders as he starts to hold his breath. Jim reluctantly lets go but stays in within arm's reach. Jim tries again, gentle and slow, "Bones?"

Nothing. It's like Leonard doesn't even hear him. "Leonard."

"Dr M'Benga says he had some success with using McCoy," offers one of the nurses in a sweet voice with a pity smile that Jim loathes in situations like this.

Jim wants to cry. It feels like he's falling down a cliff and there's nothing to grab on to. "McCoy," he tries. For the first time that name feels foreign in his mouth.

Leonard flinches like he expects Jim to hit him but refuses to look up. If anything he shrinks in on himself even more.

"McCoy, look at me," says Jim in the softest tone he can manage. He needs some sign that his best friend is in there.

A pained whine escapes Leonard but he reluctantly looks up. His bangs, which are longer than usual, flop haphazardly in his face. They aren't long enough to hide the look of anticipated terror Leonard has, like a wounded animal cornered, staring at an approaching death blow.

Jim feels like a stranger is looking back at him. There isn't even the faintest hint of recognition there. If anything there's fear and apprehension swirling in those forest green eyes, like Jim's just another person in a long line of people that have abused his friend. "Do you remember me?" he asks. "Do you know who I am?"

Silence is the only answer and it's crushing. Leonard sits there and stares at Jim, like it's Jim who's acting unusual.

After a few moments of awkward silence and being unable to look away, Leonard starts to fidget slightly. He wants to keep still like he's supposed to, but no one is telling him what they want. He doesn't know what is expected of him here and that's dangerous. Another whine builds in the back of his throat.

It hits Jim that Leonard is afraid of him. The quivering lip and tear laden eyes are a part of genuine fear Leonard has – of _Jim._ Jim, who's spent many nights dragging Leonard to every bar to help Leonard get over his ex-wife. Of Jim, who devoted every Sunday afternoon to helping Leonard get over his aviophobia by running shuttle simulations with him. Jim- whom Leonard risked his career for when he smuggled Jim onboard the Enterprise.

Jim's brain can't even process what is happening. This should be a happy day. He's been waiting for Leonard to come home for a year but what they brought back isn't his friend. He wants to protest, to say they made some sort of mistake. This is someone else. It's not. Behind the slightly gaunt face, underweight frame and vacant eyes, Jim knows he's looking at the shadow of his best friend. It feels like losing Leonard all over again. They brought home a ghost.

"We're just going to take him to run some more in depth scans," explains the nurse as she gently moves Jim out of the way.

"Yeah," Jim agrees, standing there utterly useless as they wheel Leonard out of the room. He stumbles out of the room; it hurts too much to stare at the now empty biobed.

Now that the doctor has disappeared, Jim's brain is stock piling questions. Not just medical questions either, he wants answers from everyone. Why didn't they tell him when they found Leonard? What kind of sick fucks would do this to someone? Did they do it intentionally? Why? Who? What? The hallway begins to spin uncontrollably.

Someone grabs his arm and kindly pulls him to the nearest bench. "You should sit down," says Christine. She rubs soothing circles against his back as Jim tries to stop himself from hyperventilating.

"He's not Leonard anymore," manages Jim around choppy gasps. "They lobotomized him." Saying it out loud is as painful a revelation as actually seeing it in person.

"I heard," says Christine, pained. She's done more than hear, she was on shift when the landing party brought the rescued slaves back. Leonard had been worse then, more desperate animal with mangy hair and pained whimpers than top Federation surgeon. It wasn't until the DNA sample confirmed it, did she even realize she was doing the intake work up on her former boss.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do here," he confesses, letting his head hang down. He threads his fingers through his hair, letting his nails dig into his scalp. The pain is the only thing that seems real. Of all of the outcomes he envisioned, this wasn't one of them. He didn't prepare for this at all. There was no course on what to do when your best friend is destroyed mentally because of your inability to recognize the enemy between interstellar cartography and the history of diplomacy.

"We can help you," says Christine, still rubbing circles against Jim's back.

That _we_ rings hollow. _We_ weren't responsible for the away team that day. _We_ didn't put Leonard in that away team. _We_ didn't fail to realize it was a trap in time. _We_ aren't responsible for the care of the living ghost that was brought back with Leonard's name and face but not his soul. Jim's self incrimination turns to anger. No one told him Leonard was found until the Enterprise returned to Earth; that's two weeks the crew knew what they found and didn't tell, didn't give him time to prepare. "Why didn't anyone tell me?" he demands.

Christine's hand stills. "M'Benga wanted to be sure." They were hopeful at first. Perhaps it was just trauma from being held captive for a year, that intense therapy and time could heal his spirit. As the test results started coming in, it became clear surgical intervention would be required. All too soon it became apparent that M'Benga and perhaps modern medicine entirely lacked the ability to repair what had been barbarically done.

"It took M'Benga two weeks to come up with a diagnosis? Pike might need to start looking for a more competent CMO," says Jim, bitterly. It's not fair, Geoffrey is a competent doctor, Leonard wouldn't have served with anything less, but Jim's not interested in fairness or kindness right now; not when both have been denied Leonard for so long. This was his real life Kobayashi Maru and he failed.

"The Captain, Captain Pike," corrects Christine, "wanted to wait until we reached Earth and M'Benga could confer with actual specialists to be sure it was irreversible before you were informed. We thought it would be better if everyone was certain before telling you."

Jim doesn't feel better about it. In fact he misses not having the opportunity to wrap himself protectively in the warm soft blanket of hope and denial. Now there's nowhere to hide in the harsh cold spot light of irrefutable fact and prognosis.

"What did the doctor say exactly?" she asks.

Jim holds up the PADD the doctor gave him helplessly. He wasn't paying attention once the word irreparable brain damage was launched into his head.

Christine takes the PADD, and skims though the report. It's pretty much what M'Benga had concluded. It's a grim report with not much room to sugar coat anything. It's filled with so much medical jargon, that even when Jim does pull himself together, the report is pretty much useless to him. It makes her miss her boss even more. He was grumpy and irritable but he knew who to put patients at ease and reassure them all. Leonard would have presented this report completely different; made it more sympathetic and to the point in terms the family could understand.

"There's a list of medical centers here that can take Leonard for rehabilitation. They seem to think he has the potential to rebuild enough motor function and behaviours that he can do basic things like feed and dress himself. Perhaps he could even rebuild some basic vocabulary," she says. "I could ask around to see which one is the best, but I have heard good things about this one." Christine points to one of the facilities on the list as she hands the PADD back to Jim.

"You mean put him in a care facility?" asks Jim, a little horrified. He's lost Leonard once, dumping him in some cold medical facility in the care of strangers seems no less cruel than leaving him in the hands of the slavers that did this to him. It's also the act of certainty that things won't get better; that Leonard's gone and he's never coming back.

"He needs round the clock supervision and personalized care. Finding a long term care home seems the only real option and in Leonard's best interest," says Christine, softly.

It doesn't feel like it's in Leonard's best interest. It feels like it's in everybody else's best interest to dump the permanent reminder of their failure somewhere out of sight and out of mind. Jim lets out a long breath. "Maybe."

* * *

Jim knows the way to Leonard's room; he's worn a familiar path there. Pike and M'Benga combined their collective influence to secure a room for Leonard in Starfleet Medical until Jim can make other more beneficial arrangements. Christine's even inserted herself into the nursing rotation so she can take a shift with Leonard.

"How's he doing today?" he asks as Christine exits the room making sure it locks behind her.

"He's sedated," she says apologetically. "Tried another escape attempt and as a result cut his hand up pretty good."

That's a punch in the gut. State of the art facility and still Leonard isn't completely safe. It's all self inflicted by desperate attempts to get away from people in lab coats and strangers. Apparently even a lobotomy couldn't erase the trauma of the whole ordeal, prompting a deep distrust and terror of medical in Leonard. This used to be his safe space.

The heavy sedation days are to keep Leonard from trying to flee. He's not running to anything, just trying to get away from the people tasked with helping. Jim had security let him go one day just to see if there was some part of Leonard trying to reach out, something he was looking for that they weren't providing. They tested the theory six times and every time Leonard just found somewhere new to hide.

The lighter sedation days are to just calm him since people in general elicit a fear response from him. He follows basic commands like sit and stay when someone's in the room like a dog. Jim has a sinking suspicion he knows a few other commands he doesn't have the stomach to test based on aborted movements and weird glances from Leonard when Jim enters the room.

Christine doesn't have to say it. Her pained smile and sad eyes are all the incrimination Jim needs. A specialized facility would be better than here; Jim just can't bring himself to commit to that yet. It's like admitting defeat, that Leonard's gone and there's no coming back. At least here at medical, Jim can delude himself into believing they're working on something to fix this- that the human brain isn't still the mystery they claim.

"I'm working on finding a place," sighs Jim. He just sees the whole thing as packing Leonard away in a box to be forgotten about while everyone else gets to move on.

"I know. He'll be glad to see you," she says, pulling the clips out of her hair. Her shift ended hours ago, but like Jim, she has a hard time leaving Leonard completely alone.

Jim wants to laugh. Leonard never seems glad to see any of them. Instead he says, "Enjoy your day off," before entering Leonard's room.

The lights are low but not off. Jim can see Leonard watching him wearily from his prone position on his cot. Leonard can be sedated with enough drugs to take down an elephant and still he keeps an intense visual on anyone in his space. Jim can tell the difference between light and heavy sedation based on whether Leonard tries to crawl under the bed or crouches on the corner versus times like this where he's physically incapable of doing anything other than glare at Jim.

"Heard you might have had a rough morning," he says claiming the chair in the corner. Jim likes to fill silences with his own voice. If he isn't doings something worth talking about, he employs the use of his gift for conversation. None of that swagger and charm works here.

God he'd give anything for Leonard to tell him to report to medical for a physical or quit spending all night drinking.

"Shady Acres is nice," informs Jim. "If you like that we're trying not to look like a prison sort of vibe." This morning's facility was a bust in his books. He didn't even bother to entertain the invitation for the virtual tour of the Vulcan run facility on Slatier IV. Leonard would kill him for even considering it. He can hear it now- _the last thing a human with mental problems needs is to be stuck in a room with emotionally constipated Vulcans._

"Tomorrow's appointment might go better. It's a place down south. Not quite Georgia but close enough. Figured that might appeal to you." Jim's not sure if it would or not. For all Leonard speaks fondly of his upbringing in Georgia and what life was like there until his divorce, he never returned after joining Starfleet except for his mother's funeral.

Leonard doesn't support or deter the idea. He just lays there staring impassively at Jim.

"If you tell me what to do, I'll do it," whispers Jim. "It could be anything from get me a peach cobbler to go to hell, Jim and I'll make it happen." And he would. He'd do anything to hear that southern drawl again.

Leonard doesn't seem inclined to indulge him but there does seem to be a bit of condemnation in his eyes.

* * *

"I'm getting tired of picking you up off of the ground in back alleyways and barrooms," says Pike with clear disapproval written on his face.

Jim's getting tired of regaining consciousness with this speech but here they are. He rolls over on to his side to make getting up off the floor easier. It's much further down when he's trying to get up under his own power then when he's being punched out. The room is still a little wobbly so he couldn't have been out for that long.

Pike's quick to grab a table and order a water which he pushes over to Jim with a large stack of napkins. He levels the disappointed dad look at Jim which is becoming as tiresome as having to look for the kid most nights.

Jim stretches then pinches his bottom lip as he pulls away the cold, wet, bunched paper towel he's using to stop the bleeding. It doesn't feel too bad so the split can't be that big. "Yeah, well nobody asked you to," he says bitterly.

Pike looks heaven ward and shakes his head. He thought he was missing out by skipping his chance at having kids of his own; Jim's enough of a handful to sate that need for nine lifetimes. "Do you even know what today is?" he asks, trying to avoid all the pitfalls and traps of previous mornings. They can't keep doing this dance. Pike's not sure he has it in him to watch Jim wither and die like this.

"Ummmm," hums Jim, making a show of appearing to think about it. "Thursday?" is his sarcastic reply. Days don't hold meaning anymore; one is just like the next on an endless loop. Pike's time is best served elsewhere. Why he has to constantly show up and ruin Jim's day and buzz is beyond him. It's not like Jim isn't attending his duties. He spends an hour at Starfleet performing his light duties assignments, then checks in with Leonard and his medical team before lunch. After lunch Jim tours rehab facilities though his heart isn't in it.

There's one facility in the Galiao system that specializes in the rehabilitation of Orion slaves; it checks all the medical and care boxes on Jim's hastily made list. The only downfall is location. It's four weeks from Earth which means unless Jim transfers to a nearby space station it's four weeks away from his current posting or if he gets his ship back, infinitely out of reach.

Jim tries not to think to hard about that. Nobody's said anything about his command and he's afraid to ask. Does he even want it anymore? What is he going to do without it? How does his being on a ship impact Leonard? It's more pieces of a puzzle Jim's struggling to put together.

Then there's Leonard's daughter, Joanna. Can Jim put her father that far out of reach? Jocelyn made it difficult for Leonard to see her on Earth, Jim highly doubts Jocelyn will be travelling that far to let Joanna see Leonard. So he keeps looking for the next best place while he avoids any decisions regarding his life. So this little intervention is unnecessary.

"It's the awards ceremony for McCoy today," lectures Pike, knowing full well Jim's aware. "Of which you are obligated to attend," he adds with extra bite. He can tolerate the childish antics so long, but Jim's used up any leniency Pike has.

Jim snorts, surveying the table for any dredges of liquid hiding in the multitude of glasses. "Don't think Bones has a lot of uses for fancy medals anymore." The whole show is just so Starfleet can pat themselves on the back and claim another hero in their name. Leonard wasn't a hero because of his Starfleet training, he was a damn hero because that's who he is as a person.

It's not like Leonard is even going to be there to receive the honor. For all intents and purpose, it's being awarded posthumously. Leonard's in no condition to attend a ceremony and he certainly won't understand why they're trying to pin something to his shirt. Today is about a medal that will sit in a box for a person that doesn't seem to exist anymore. "And I don't think anyone wants me there."

"That's not the point. And you're right, they don't want drunk repeat offender fresh off a bender and a stint in the brig to show up anywhere. They would like Captain James T Kirk to make an appearance because the day demands it." Jim hasn't exactly been exemplifying the best of Starfleet the past year, particularly the last few weeks. Going out and getting drunk every night since Leonard's rescue hasn't gone unnoticed by Pike, the brass or security.

Jim shakes his head. He's not a captain, he doesn't have a ship. And even if he did, it seems in poor taste to have the person responsible for putting Leonard in the hands of his captors show up to honor him. "That's not a place I should be."

"This is what's going to happen," barks Pike in that low, calm deadly tone he uses on the bridge. "You are going to clean yourself up, put on a fresh uniform and attend that ceremony on time. You will stand there and you will salute at all the appropriate times because McCoy's sacrifice demands no less and because his damn daughter will in attendance and we will show her the respect her father has commanded. And if you can't do that, then don't come back, Jim." The warning is clear. Pike will not watch Jim self-destruct any longer and he will not tolerate it affecting anyone else.

"I think Joanna would be better served by my not attending," says Jim sourly. He hasn't even seen her since he told her Leonard was missing. So far it's been recommended that she refrain from visiting until they get Leonard acclimated and settled somewhere.

"You out of everyone there are probably someone that can relate to her best. You both lost your fathers."

"That's different. Mine died. Bones is still… She gets to live with a ghost." Jim's not sure who's better off.

"And you live in the shadow of one." Pike's quiet for a moment, choosing his words careful like a well planned attack. "Today isn't about you or me or even McCoy in this case. It's about showing that little girl that the price that was paid means something. What we do matters and we can't lose sight of that. McCoy's actions kept his crewmates safe. There are families that get to embrace their loved ones because of what he did."

"It shouldn't have been him." It should have been me, gets caught up in Jim's throat as tears start to slowly roll.

"But it was. Your father saved over seven hundred lives with ten minutes of command. He didn't do it because he didn't want to be here with you and your mother, he did it because it was what needed to be done. McCoy did the same thing. I can tell you this, neither of them sacrificed so you could throw it all away here."


	3. I said where you been?

Leonard steps off the shuttle. The ailing ship is as dark and foreboding as the feeling in his gut. It reminds him of a horror vid he watched once with a group of kids from school. The genera's never appealed to him, he's seen the horrors of what people can do to one another up close and the ravages of invisible foes as they drain the vibrancy out of the living; he doesn't need to see some reality suspending slasher running around in a rubber mask to get his thrills. He watched that vid with the same criticism he's applied to his life- why would anyone walk into certain death when it's presented as a dark creepy cemetery on Halloween night? Those mindless adults playing teenagers had it coming. And yet, he steps onto this ship that's bathed in ominous red lighting, acidic smoke and phaser damaged walls with the delusion he's going to remain alive. He probably owes those movies an apology.

He tries to push his unease aside, reminding himself that lives are on the line. His medical team doesn't look any steadier than him. Pulling in a steadying breath, his game face slips in place. He flourishes under pressure, a doctor can't afford not to.

Through the smoke Leonard catches a glimpse of something flesh like poking out from under a sheet of metal that used to be a panel cover. Chapel is at his side quickly, helping him to free the entrapped body. He has a diagnosis before he even runs the scanner over the body, but he has to be sure. He gently shakes his head for confirm the suspicion of the away team that's gathered round looking for good news. "He's dead," says Leonard regretfully.

"Alright," yells Scotty over the moans and groans of the ship and the hisses and whines of broken pipes and vents. "I need two of ya to work your way down to engineering with me and see if we can't stabilize the engines." He looks at his four engineers for volunteers.

"Three teams," orders Leonard parting his medics by waving his hand. Divide and conquer to find and help as many people as possible. Hopefully there are people still left to save. "I'll head to the bridge, see if anyone is up there," informs Leonard. "Second team, try to find your way to the crew quarters."

"Right," agrees Scotty. "I want an engineer and security officer with each medical team to help them open doors and get through corridors," he instructs. "Be careful. If ye run into trouble head back to the shuttles immediately."

The three teams head make their way through the ship in search of life. Leonard hears Scotty open a channel to the Enterprise as they start to separate. "Two dead bodies in the docking area. Taking half the medical team with me to the front of the ship," adds Leonard. It appears his warning about today was spot on, he just didn't give it to the right crew.

The ships a maze of twisting corridors that they navigate with nothing more than honest to god guess work. The scanners aren't picking up any life signs or readings of any kind. There's a low level interference disrupting their systems that the engineer that's tagging along can't identify or rectify.

"Where is everybody?" asks Chapel, shining her wrist light around. There's an unease in her voice that they all share.

The hell if Leonard knows. Surely they should have run into someone by now.

"Maybe they all made it off the ship?" suggests security officer Ainsley.

"Maybe," says Leonard, leading them further towards what he hopes is the bridge. They go down another couple of corridors before they hit the securely closed door of the bridge. Leonard swipes his hand in front of the sensor. Nothing. He tries pushing the open button. Still nothing.

"Let me try," volunteers engineer Brite as he pushes his way to the front of the line. "Give me a hand," he adds to the security officer.

Leonard stands back as the pair start to take the control panel for the door off. Between the banging and discouraging sparking sounds is something out of place. He tilts his head and strains his ears to try and catch the sound again. It's probably his mind playing tricks on him, using the eerie atmosphere and his abundance of imagination to concoct something that isn't there.

The gentle whimper is definitely there, but where exactly? Leonard takes a few steps down a side corridor, waving off Chapel as she looks at him curiously. It could be nothing, and they need to keep going to the bridge; it will just take him a second to check out.

The crying gets more pronounced the further he goes. He pulls out his tricorder but still no useful readings. He rounds the next corner to find a dead end. Leonard's about to give credence to ghosts when out of the corner of his eye, tucked away in a large storage compartment covered by debris he catches a glimpse of someone's knee.

Slowly he pulls away the sheets of hull plating and ceiling panels. "Well, hello there," Leonard says gently as he kneels down before the raggedy clothed child. She looks to be somewhere between ten and thirteen, not unlike his own little girl. She's dirty, with ratty hair; the trail of tears offering the only real speck of clean green skin. "Are you hurt anywhere," he asks, using his scanner. The personal scanners work up close, though a little slow with this interference.

The girl doesn't answer, just pulls her knees tighter to her chest. She's gone silent in front of Leonard, her tear laden eyes wide and fearful as they watch every move he makes.

He checks his readings. There's no sigh of physical injury but she is malnourished and slightly dehydrated. "Are you alone here?" he asks, looking for signs or anyone else, dead or alive. What is an Orion doing on a Karten ship?

She doesn't answer, just continues to stare like Leonard is the monster from the story that eats babies whole.

"Doctor?" asks Chapel walking up behind Leonard.

Leonard flinches hard, his heart rate speeding up. Apparently the little girl isn't the only one expecting monsters. Regaining his composure he says, "Nurse, this is our new friend…" he trails off hoping the little girl will fill in the blank. She doesn't. Whatever happened here, it must have been horrible.

"Does she need medical assistance?" asks Chapel keeping her distance so the little girl doesn't feel closed in.

"I think she'll be better with a hot meal and some clean clothes. What do you say? Should we get out of here?" Leonard extends his hand the girl. His mama always told him you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. Sure he could throw this urchin over his shoulder but he doubts it will instil any level of trust between them.

She stares at Leonard blankly for a moment. He's just about ready to try another tactic when slowly she extends her small delicate hand towards his, the ominous rattle of the shackle around her wrist ringing out into the dark.

"What the hell," mutters Leonard, looking at the chain binding the girl. No wonder she's scared and hiding; who the hell shackles a child? It snaps into place like a lightning bolt splitting a tree. "It's a trap!" he yells, grabbing the girl in his arms. He pushes a stunned Chapel forward as he breaks out into a run. His team is about to open the doors to the bridge where the ship's occupants are probably waiting for them. "The ship's Orion, don't open the doors!" he screams but it's too late.

Leonard and Chapel hit the main corridor just as the phaser fire starts. "Head back to the shuttles!" orders Leonard, waving his people back with one hand as he holds the girl against his chest with the other. Chapel is running in front of him with fellow medic Ensign Ito. Brite and Ainsley are behind him, returning phaser fire when able as the slavers that were hiding on the bridge, just waiting for their pray to come in close, give chase.

With one hand, Leonard fumbles for his communicator. "Scotty! Get back the shuttles. It was a god damn trap!"

Leonard hears the phaser fire that takes Ainsley down. He looks over his shoulder to see if Ainsley is still alive, not that it would do much good. He can't afford to stop. The girl he's carrying will never outrun this hoard and despite her small stature, Chapel or Ito will never be able to carry her and stay ahead. It kills him to leave someone behind, but right now he has to save as many as possible.

"Bones, any survivors yet?" asks Jim, impatiently from the safety of the Enterprise bridge.

Right, Jim's waiting for a report on what's supposed to be desperate survivors. "Jim there's Orion slavers here. It's a slave ship," spits Leonard over the comms. It crackles and fizzes, succumbing to whatever the slavers are using to mask their signals and interfere with the Enterprise's sensors.

"Say again Bones," repeats Jim.

"Emergency evacuation, repeat we need an emergency evacuation," Leonard replies, desperately. If ever he needed that monstrosity of engineering called the transporter to work, it's now.

The docking section finally comes into view and with it the blessed addition of other members of the away team. The other security officers are divided, firing in different directions to try and hold their ground. They're surrounded; their only hope is to get on the damn shuttles and separate from the ship.

Leonard feels the sharp sting across his leg the same second he loses his balance, tumbling to the ground. The sharp bite of metal teeth rips through his shin as one of the slavers yanks back his whip like tool. The girl goes tumbling down with Leonard, hitting the ground and rolling out of his reach.

Leonard scrambles to his feet, his right leg tender, aching and unsteady now forcing him to run with a limp. Chapel turns to head back but Leonard waves her on.

The girl, slightly stunned by the fall, shakes her head as she sits up. The sight of Leonard charging towards her followed by a squad of slavers hot on his heels sends her scurrying to the side of the corridor. With nimble fingers she pries open one of the vent covers and crawls in.

Leonard slides to a stop in front of the vent. "We have to go sweetheart," he pleads reaching in for the girl that reminds him of his own daughter. She folds herself half and scoots back even further. Leonard's too big to go in after her and now she's out of reach. "Please, we have to get out of here. My people can keep you safe," he promises.

It's a short lived promise. One of his pursuers hits him like a rocket sending both of them sprawling over the deck. A little quicker to recover, Leonard's attacker begins grabbing at him for any spot to get a good grip on for leverage as he socks Leonard in the face.

Leonard believes in the virtues of a fair fight but not when fighting for his and the lives of his crew. Studying anatomy has its perks and Leonard is quick to bring his knee up hard into the Orion's genital area. The Orion rolls over howling before Officer Greer stuns him with a phaser blast.

"I told you to get on a shuttle," says Leonard as Chapel's there helping him to his feet. Chapel just glares at him the same way he glares junior officers that say something incredibly stupid. Leonard spares a quick glance back towards the vent. He wants to go back and try and pull the girl out but his people are being overrun. Painful he gives into Chapel's tug on his arm, following her back towards the shuttles.

Thank god Scotty's alright. He's helping battered away team members climb into one of the shuttles as the last two standing security officers dole out cover fire. "Where is everybody?" asks Leonard doing a quick head count.

"Everybody got split up," says Scotty solemnly. "Reager didn't make it." He points to the badly wounded officer slumped in the corner of the shuttle. Orion Slaver like to take captives but they don't like resistance and they can't afford to have survivors out there giving away their secrets.

Leonard has a feeling there's more Starfleet bodies lying dead on this ship somewhere.

A sharp metal spear embeds itself in the haul platting just past Scotty's head. "It's time to go, Doctor," he says. It's a hell of a thing to leave crew members behind but they just can't hold this position and go looking for the remaining crew that hasn't managed to fall back yet.

Just their luck the salvers would resort to medieval weaponry in conjunction to phasers. A phaser just isn't a match for arrows or crudely made swords in close combat. Scotty fires, taking down one of the salvers who gets absorbed by the mob trying to pierce their perimeter.

Leonard turns as Chapel screams, a large battle clad Orion trying to pull her back into the mob. Leonard took an oath to do no harm, that doesn't he doesn't know how to. His hand closes into a tight fist as he clocks the thug with a vicious right hook. Jim's not the only one that can hold his own in a bar fight. It takes four punches to free Chapel from the thug's grip and though Leonard's knuckles are aching and his hand feels like something's probably broken, he delivers one more, just to be sure. The Orion staggers back, unsteady on his feet.

Leonard uses his momentum to grab Chapel and swing her towards the shuttle. With a shove, he pushes her past the airlock doors to relative safety.

Not taking kindly to losing his pray, the Orion grabs Leonard by the back of the shirt, yanking him back. The fabric around his throat tightens leaving Leonard no choice but to step back. He blocks the first punch with his arm but raising his arm leaves his midsection an easy target for the Orion's next blow. The hit drives the air from his lungs bringing him to his knees.

Armed with the only weapon at his disposal, Leonard grabs his tricorder and swings it hard at the Orion's head. The silver metal makes a sickening crack against the thug's skull as the Orion tumbles to the ground. Leonard doesn't lament the headache he'll have when he regains consciousness.

"We have ta go, McCoy!" shouts Scotty, ducking into the shuttle.

Leonard makes it five steps before he hear it. "Wait. We're coming!" He turns and sees one of his nurses Evelyn Xanders with engineer Clark's arm slung over her shoulder from the third search team, trying desperately to get to the shuttle.

Leonard's five steps away from safety. He knows those two aren't going to make it, but those are his people- his nurse that he assigned to away team rotation today. He locks eyes with Chapel and they know at the same moment what desperate foolish idea crosses Leonard's mind.

Five steps to safety.

Five steps.

Five.

Leonard takes the five steps towards the shuttle and hits the button to seal the door. "Doctor McCoy!" screams Chapel as the shuttle door starts to close. Scotty can't wait any longer, the shuttle will be over run and none of them will get to go home. Leonard can't in good conscious leave his nurse here alone with these slavers. His people are prisoners here and they're going to need a commanding officer and more importantly a doctor.

"I'm not leaving them here," shouts Leonard over his shoulder as he moves closer to his people. It's a foolish move. He has people counting on him to return home: friends, family, his daughter, Jim. How's he supposed to look them in the eye, if he just leaves good people here alone?

He reaches them, throwing Clark's other arm over his shoulder but it's too late. The Orion ship goes to warp just as the shuttle disengages from the ship.

* * *

"Uncle Jim," calls Joanna, excited to see an adult she knows. Her blue dress ripples and sparkles in the afternoon sun as her white satin shoes carry her through the gathering of staunch Captains and stodgy Admirals towards the one familiar face.

Jim wipes the tears from his eyes with his gloved hand before he turns around; a big fake smile plastered on his face. She comes in fast and hard, wrapping her arms around his hips and burying her face in his stomach as she hugs him tightly. His hands fall on her shoulders, resting gently on the lavish locks of hair cascading out from the silver scrunchie trying its best to tame the thick hair.

"I'm so glad to see to you," she mumbles into his dress shirt. Of all the adults in her life Jim is always the most fun. He's a big kid that's willing to play and even convinces daddy to forgo the rules.

Jim wonders if she'll feel that way when she's older and able to understand exactly what Jim's role in things was or when she actually realizes what she's lost. "Hey Joanna."

"Mom's letting me take a month off from school. It's been great. I got to spend a week with grandma and grandpa and then we went to Paris," she says with an enthusiasm for life Jim wishes he could still feel. Her bubbly good mood becomes more somber as she asks, "When do I get to see my daddy and give him this?" She holds out the box containing Leonard's recently awards medal for bravery like she's not entirely sure what to do with, just that it belongs to her father.

"I don't…" starts Jim at a complete loss.

"He was away for a year and now it's been months," she protests, tilting her head in an adorable rendition of the same irritated stance her father takes when he's about to scold Jim for doing something idiotic. "We're supposed to have cupcakes together on our birthdays and we missed it last year. It's going to be his birthday again soon. No offense Uncle Jim, but eating one with you wasn't the same." She says it so plainly, like Jim's the one who's not caught up on how things should go.

Jim has to agree, he's a poor substitution. Since Leonard often didn't have physical access to Joanna on her birthday he resorted to vid call birthday parties. Jim helped him pick up cupcakes once during their academy days, one to arrive at Joanna's home and another for Leonard to eat with her on their call. Leonard even had Jim join them one year. They did cupcakes and watched her open his present.

Since Jim knows a thing or two about parents being absent on his birthday, he made it a point to uphold the tradition. That was back when he thought there was a remote chance of bringing Leonard home; he didn't exactly fulfill that lofty goal. So far they haven't gotten Leonard to cooperate with any kind of instruction or rules or interact in a positive way with any of them. Jim has no idea if the McCoy birthday tradition is even a possibility in the future.

"We'll have to see. Your dad's still not up to seeing people just yet." The words leave a particularly bad taste in his mouth. There's probably a special place in hell for people who lie to adorably sweet children about of all things, their birthday plans.

"I'm not exactly people, I'm his daughter," she chirps like she can't understand why adults can be so dense sometimes.

"Yes, but…"

"Honey, why don't you go over there and explore the garden? I have to talk to Captain Kirk for a moment," interrupts Jocelyn finally making her way through the crowd.

Joanna looks disappointed, her head drooping a little as she slowly walks away to check out the wonders of the Starfleet headquarters conservatory.

Jim would thank Jocelyn for the intervention but the devil never does anything for free. She stands there, just as intimidating as any admiral with her arms crossed but careful not to hide her fresh manicure or the large rock husband number two gifted her with. Jim swears the temperature around them just dropped a few degrees. "It's nice to see you Jocelyn," he tries, aiming for nice but bracing for her to rip his spine from his body.

"Kirk," comes Jocelyn's curt reply.

Jim wonders if her face would crack if she cracked a smile. He'd glanced at the front row during the ceremony a couple times, out of interest or self inflicted torture he isn't sure. Joanna looked board but like the well mannered future representative of high society, handled herself like a champ. Jocelyn on the other hand looked the whole affair was the biggest inconvenience of her life and should be award Leonard's medal just for withstanding the whole affair. Frankly if it wasn't for the social expectation, Jim doubts she would have shown up at all. "So how much does Joanna know?" asks Jim, cutting straight to business. Selfishly, he doesn't want to be the one to explain it to Joanna.

He's played that nightmare out a few times in his head. _Why is my daddy like this? Why doesn't he know who I am? Why can't he come home? Why won't he get better?_ Jim doesn't have the answers, at least none that won't leave a lasting scar. It's bad enough she's lost her father, does Jim really have to give form to the boogeyman that did it, in a world where he father can no longer protect her from such evils?

"Enough, considering we don't know a lot." She looks pointedly at Jim, like he's personally withholding details.

Though, to be fair, he kind of is. The gory details needn't be whispered anywhere other than the deepest, darkest void in space. The rest of it is still a giant question mark hanging over all of their heads. Jim's heard it all; Leonard's current feral animal like state is permanent all the way to the lofty goal of probably being able to feed himself and follow basic social norms; basically, the gamete of junkyard coyote to eternal five year old. He did forward the basic assessment on to Jocelyn as a courtesy to help prepare Joanna. Time will be the judge of where they land on the scale.

"I have a business meeting on Le Terren in two weeks. I'll be dropping Joanna off at the Rebrook Academy on Ulta Four on my way there," says Jocelyn coldly.

"You're sending Joanna to school off world?" asks Jim perplexed. "I thought the custody agreement said…"

"My custody arrangement is none of your concern. Her father isn't here to visit her," says Jocelyn dismissively. "Rebrook Academy is a prestigious school. She'll receive a good education."

"When you dump here there on her own," snipes Jim. Jim knows what it's like to be dumped somewhere as a child and if Leonard isn't capable of being incensed about it, he'll be indignant on behalf of both Leonard and Joanna.

"Stick to captaining your ship and I'll stick to raising my daughter. I would say the terms of our agreement have changed drastically." Jocelyn rolls her eyes as if talking to a simpleton. "I'm sure Joanna would like to see her father before she leaves. I just need to know if we can make that happen. Otherwise she won't be back until the holiday break later this year."

Jim's head is spinning. He has enough deadlines and fires to put out, breaking a little girls heart again isn't on his to do list. Leave it to the wicked witch to kick Leonard when he's down one more time. "I'll run it by Leonard's medical team but I doubt now is a good time, he concedes bitterly. There's nothing to be gained by starting a fight here, especially in front of Joanna.

"You can reach us at the hotel," says Jocelyn before walking off to collect her daughter.

Jim stands there, unable to move. A few members of the brace give him solemn nods as they pass by but Jim can't even convince his body to return the nod. His brain is incapable of forming a plan to combat this curve ball life decided to throw. Jim supposes his first step should be to go visit Leonard and get the resounding no, he's predicting from the supervising doctor.

He turns to walk away before anyone decides to express their sympathies to him for the loss of his officer, and almost walks right into Uhura. "I can't right now," says Jim as she opens her mouth to say all the words that should offer comfort but leave Jim feeling cold and like an imposter. He moves quickly before she has a moment to change tactics and rebut his response.


	4. He Said, Ask Anything

Jim doesn't know what song is playing but his head is pounding in time with the bass that's cranked to the max. A dance club isn't his usual type of establishment but he and his usual haunt are taking a break for awhile. Apparently the owner's tolerance for his disruptive and costly bar fights has soured her to his presence for awhile. Whatever. It's not the social scene Jim's looking for anyways. He just needs to wash the day away from his memory.

He surveys the crowd until his eyes meet someone else's. The woman smiles coyly, continuing to dance with the group of friends she arrived with. Tucking her hair behind her ear she risks another glance at Jim, her smile becoming bolder as realizes Jim's watching.

Jim pounds back his shot. He can't stomach the idea of going home tonight or being alone so he better act on the opportunity presenting itself. Home is full of ghostly memories that do nothing but rattle their chains all night accompanied by a dark loneliness that swoops in like death and threatens to slowly carve out every inch of his soul and display it as some bloody epitaph to honour Leonard. His thoughts are no better, planting seeds for his dreams to concoct re-enactments of Leonard's hellish existence over the last year.

Jim takes a deep breath, his hand wrapping around the edge of the table he's sitting at as he prepares his alcohol addled brain to turn on the charm and secure him and unknowing warrior against his own self-loathing for the night.

"What are we drinking tonight, Jim?" asks Scotty, sliding into Jim's booth. He screws his face up as he takes an experimental sniff of the eerie green dribble abandoned in Jim's glass. If a man's going to drink himself to death, he could at least do it with something decent.

Jim throws his head back, letting it rest on the fake leather upholstered back rest. He doesn't even hide his disappointment and frustration, releasing an irritated moan that can be heard over the music. "What are you doing here, Scotty?"

"Can't one friend join another for a drink?" he replies with a sheepish grin. Subtlety isn't exactly his game; he's an engineer not a spy.

"It's hardly your scene," counters Jim, crossing his arms.

"Doesn't seem like yours either, yet here we are." Scotty shrugs, raising his hand to signal the waitress to bring him a drink.

Jim's nostrils flare as he sucks in a deep breath. "I'm not in the mood," says Jim sourly, cutting straight to the point.

Scotty purses his lips. "Captain Pike sent me."

Jim rolls his eyes. If it's possible he looks even more irritated. "I don't need a babysitter."

"The Captain thinks otherwise." Scotty swallows nervously. "Sir." He's not the man for this job; he fixes ships not people. "He also sent me with a message."

Jim shakes his head. Everyone is so busy trying to help but they certainly weren't willing to help in any meaningful way when he was looking for Leonard. "Well?" demands Jim, growing tired of the silence.

"He said to remind you that he's not picking you up off of anymore barroom floors."

"That's hardly the threat it's made out to be when he sends you instead," counters Jim. "You don't have to do what he says," he adds pointing out the obvious abuse of power in sending Scotty to do Pike's dirty work afterhours.

"I kind of do. He's my Captain." The statement's as painful to say as it is to watch it hit its mark. Pike still has command of the Enterprise and no one's said a peep about a change of command anytime soon. "And you're my friend. Plus we all know what happened the last time I disobeyed an Admiral," adds Scotty, sullenly. He didn't enjoy his never ending stint on Delta Vega, he's not looking for another one.

Jim watches out of the corner of his eye as his potential bed partner leaves the club with her group of friends. He's been torpedoed and left drift alone.

"Come on let's get ya home," suggest Scotty, sliding over to help get Jim to his feet.

Jim pulls his arm free of Scotty's grip. "I don't want to go home. I can't!" he says, pained. He grabs a hold of the table with everything he has.

"Alright," relents Scotty. Getting into a fist fight over where Jim ends up tonight doesn't seem really intuitive to why he was sent. "We won't take you home but ya cannae stay here." Scotty wasn't on planning to bring Jim home but like any good engineer, he knows how to improvise.

* * *

"You need to see a lawyer," declares Uhura, towering over him as she refuses to actually sit at the cafeteria table with him. She's clearly on a mission, wasting no time for pleasantries or even a hello. She's spent all day trying to track Jim down who's clearly spent this last year mastering the layout and hiding spots of Starfleet command while they've been chasing down Leonard. Scotty was supposed to have tabs on him, but awoke early to an empty couch and no clue as to where their wayward former Captain slunk off to.

Jim swallows his bite. He's nearly free enough of his hangover to deal with this. "A lawyer for what?" he asks, honestly perplexed. He's just taking lunch between meetings, he hasn't had time to do anything that requires legal representation today and he certainly hasn't found himself in the brig in months. Not that any of that should concern Uhura, who's been on the Enterprise while Jim's been left to rot.

Uhura rolls her eyes. Her sympathy for Jim only runs so deep and even that is mostly because of Leonard. "For Leonard. I heard what Jocelyn said yesterday and if you want to be the one making decisions you need to get a lawyer on the paper work."

"I'm already Leonard's medical proxy. I have been making all the decisions," he says with distain. Leonard chose Jim for that position about a month into their first year at the academy when an officer tracked him down and demanded he fill out all his entrance papers to the letter and not in some drunken scrawl that left more blanks than answers. There wasn't really anyone else for Leonard to ask. His father had passed away before the divorce and his mother wasn't in the best mental state to deal with any emergencies regarding her son that she was barely speaking to. Being an only child, Leonard had one cousin he could task with the burden but beyond holidays every few years the two barely spoke. Jim was as close to him as anyone, so why not? His mother passed before the start of their third year so Jim really was all Leonard had.

"That allows you to make medical decisions in emergencies but you need power of attorney. For reasons I'll never understand, Leonard told me once that he wanted you to handle his affairs." She could never understand why someone like Leonard insisted on being friends with the likes of Kirk. But Leonard, besides being cantankerous on the outside, is undeniably sweet, generous and caring on the inside, and as such, is too good of a friend. Uhura feels it's her duty to fulfill his wishes, even if she doesn't agree with them.

"His affairs?" Jim slams his fork down. "He's not dead, damn it. The man's still alive."

"But mentally incompetent to run his life," presses Uhura. She doesn't mean to be cruel but they can't escape the facts. There's a lot at stake here and Leonard can no longer fight for himself. He chose Jim as his champion when he was of sound mind and the tragedy within the tragedy will be if they can't fulfil that request.

Jim pushes his tray to the side, suddenly no longer able to stomach the few bites he was able to force down. He doesn't want to talk about this because this is only temporary. Leonard will get better now that he's among his people and more importantly his friends. Sure it will take some time but it will happen- it has to. "We're not doing this," says Jim simply.

Uhura looks a little sad. She sits down across from him looking fragile and defeated like he's never seen her before. "We went through something similar to this with my grandmother. She was smart and funny and always so sharp," she says wistfully. "It started small. She'd forget words, her train of thought; things that happen to all of us from time to time. Then it got worse and we all just thought it was age or she was tired. It wasn't and by the time decision had to be made she wasn't in a state to tell us her wishes or who she thought could best fulfill those wishes."

"It's not the same," protests Jim. He just needs everyone to get onboard denial railways with him and quit trying to derail his train with the truth.

Uhura places her hand over his. "There's a lot at stake here. And if you don't step up someone else will and they might not be as concerned for Leonard as you," she warns in the most warm and sympathetic tone she has in her arsenal.

"Who is possibly going to want to screw up Leonard's life anymore than it already is?" asks Jim.

Long drawn out fights with family members about her grandmother's fate replay in her head; people who all thought they knew what was best often forgetting what that a scared frail person was trapped in the middle of their war, battling for the right to be the one to make decisions. Then there's Joanna; the lost soul trapped in the middle of all this misery. "You need to talk to a lawyer."

* * *

Jim bites his tongue, letting out a long tired sigh instead of a biting remark as the lawyer fumbles his awkwardly stacked pile of PADDs he carries into his office. Uhura should be proud at Jim's restraint. This bumbling lawyer doesn't even look old enough to attend law school let alone have an office with an actually license, is making it all too easy for Jim to question the wisdom of this plan. She pointedly refuses to acknowledge the look Jim's shooting her that screams this whole exercise is a waste of time and energy.

"I was able to obtain a copy of Mr McCoy's will," starts the lawyer, finally taking a seat. His desk is still a clutter with PADDs and files.

"He's still alive," says Jim, coldly. His finger tips dig into the leather arms of his chair. Everyone always wants to talk about Leonard like he's dead. "And it's Doctor."

Uhura elbows him subtly, like she's trying to discipline an unruly child, smiling warmly at the lawyer.

Jim's not interested in making friends. He's just here to make sure he has the authority to give Leonard the best help and treatment available until Leonard comes out of this. Because it doesn't matter what M'Benga and the rest say, Leonard will get better. He has to. Jim's watched Leonard perform miracles for years, he has to have saved one for himself.

Frowning, the lawyer looks down at his notes. "Right," he agrees.

Jim doubts that will be the last time the lawyer makes that mistake.

"Doctor McCoy's paper work is all pretty straight forward," the lawyer assures.

"Great," says Jim, starting to get up. He has more important things to do.

"Sit down," hisses Uhura, grabbing the hem of his shirt. She didn't call in this favour for them to leave without getting ever t crossed and every I dotted. The guy might not look like a high powered attorney but she was promised he was one of the best at the firm and able to see them. "So Jim just needs to sign some things and he'll maintain conservatorship permanently?"

The lawyer glances over his notes. "Mr McCoy, doesn't have any immediate family alive other than a daughter who appears to be under age."

"Doctor," mutter Jim. He slumps down in his chair slightly to avoid the outright display of sulking by crossing his arms.

The lawyer continues, unfazed by the interruption. "Unless the extended family or Starfleet can make a case that Mr Kirk is incompetent or incapable of performing these duties, I don't foresee a problem in regards to decisions about Dr McCoy's medical care. There may be some contest to Mr Kirk having financial control and parental rights maybe another matter though."

"Someone could contest financial rights?" ask Uhura, a little curious.

Jim's mouth gapes slightly as his brain tries to comprehend a more important word than finance. "I'm sorry, what about parental rights?"

"Yes. Mr McCoy named you as parental guardian of his daughter should anything happen to him."

Jim sits there stunned. Uhura however, seems rather unfazed by the bomb that just went off. "My brain hurts," squeaks Jim, finally convincing his body to do something in its numbed state.

"Mine too," agrees Uhura. Leonard had mentioned making Jim a guardian if something happened to him but she always assumed it was if there was no one else. Never in a million years would she have believed Leonard would think Jim first choice and fit to look after his daughter. Most of Leonard's rants started with how juvenile Jim is.

"But," says Jim screwing his face up as he tries to force his brain to get a handle on this new information, "her mother has custody."

"She does," agrees the lawyer. "Technically, she has joint custody. I have all the paperwork in regards to Mr McCoy and Mrs Darnell's divorce and I must say her attorneys are good. Their custody agreement is very detailed and specific, much to Mrs Darnell's benefit except in this case where Mr McCoy can designate his portion of guardianship if his will or living will is enacted."

"He wants me to raise his daughter?" chokes Jim. The words feel especially jagged and sharp coming out of his mouth.

"You can fulfill his portion of custody agreement, acting as his daughter's guardian during the times Mr McCoy would have custody. He's currently guaranteed a specified amount of call and vid time per month and two weeks of physical custody a year when he's on leave. They are set to review the duration of Mr McCoy's custody every year, so we can push for increased or reduced time them."

"There has to be some mistake. I can't keep a potted plant alive let alone be responsible for a child," stammers Jim. He's not even taking care of himself right now.

"They put you in charge of a starship!" Uhura snaps, rather affronted. She's always had her doubts that most of Jim's skills were nothing more than ego and bravado but part of the magic was that Jim believed in himself so fully that this omission makes her question future missions.

Jim hisses back, "Not now."

"For two weeks a year. Given the transcripts of their divorce, I fully believe Mrs Darnell will contest this turn of events. We don't have to fight to maintain the right. Though that could be her avenue to fight for conservatorship in order to preserve his financial support."

"They're divorced and it's my understanding everything was settled and Jocelyn's very well off. Why would she want anything from Leonard?" asks Jim. The last thing he needs is to tangle with that vampire of an ex wife. Especially since she was one of her lawyers.

"Mrs Darnell can contest on the grounds of their daughter. Mr McCoy…"

"Doctor," corrects Jim, gritting his teeth.

"Is responsible for her until she is of age. That means part of his estate belongs to their daughter."

"Joanna can have it all," says Jim. He wouldn't take anything of Leonard's that should rightfully belong to Joanna even if he wanted something.

"Mr McCoy has left everything to her and listed you as conservator of such estate should Ms McCoy not be of age. That being said, since Mr McCoy is still alive there will continue to be funds funnelled into the estate. For example Starfleet owes him for his service and being injured in the line of duty allows Mr McCoy access to funds to finance his long term care, hence Mrs Darnell's potential interest."

This is more than Jim's prepared to deal with. In all their years together, Leonard never mentioned any of this. If he had, Jim would have resoundingly refused. There is nothing that Jim has revealed to Leonard that would even slightly hint that Jim would be a good candidate for custodian. He wasn't that thrilled about being Leonard's medical proxy but since Leonard returned the favour for Jim and Leonard was by no means the reckless one, he had accepted. This… this is so much more. "Do you need an answer this second?" There's defeat in his voice.

"No. Mr McCoy did leave several video messages for you that explain his decision. The rest can wait until legal authority is required or someone contests." The Lawyer slides over several data sticks containing the vids. "I'll be in touch."

Jim reaches over and grabs the data sticks before he and Uhura leave the office. The ride in the turbo lift is quiet. Uhura looks like she's turning over the right words to say but failing to come up with any. Jim just stares at the ground, loosely holding onto the data sticks. His fingers refuse to tighten around them; they're potentially Leonard's last words and he's just not ready for that. Looks like the denial freight train is destined to come into the station after all.

"If you need anything, we're all here for you," says Uhura landing on a tired but honest sentiment as they leave the lobby.

"I can't do this. I can't do any of it," whispers Jim and it sounds so broken, Uhura's heart breaks for him.

The revelations from the lawyer weren't as surprising to her as they were Jim. She was there when Leonard recorded a few of the videos for Joanna. She was a little surprised at just how much Leonard trusts Jim, but she's determined to make sure that trust isn't misplaced. "Watch the vids, Jim," she suggests before heading back to her temporary quarters.

* * *

Jim stares at the data sticks like they might come alive and bite him. He can't bring himself to play them; it's like opening Pandora's Box. Whatever is said on them was meant for Jim in the case of Leonard's death and he isn't dead.

What if it's condemnation? What if Leonard somehow knew things would turn out this way and recorded a lecture berating Jim so could know he fucked up one last time. He isn't so sure he can handle that right now.

Worse, what if it's Leonard praising Jim and celebrating their friendship? Would Leonard really want him to have those vids if he knew Jim failed to bring him home? If he knew it was Jim's command that put him in harm's way to begin with?

Day falls to night and night gives way to day and still Jim sits there staring at the unknown. One has his name written on the label in Leonard's hasty scrawl, the other says Joanna, written with a little more time and care. He honestly hasn't given Joanna much thought since he was relieved of his command. He was so sure he was going to bring Leonard home safely, that her future seemed assured.

The heart breaking conversation informing her her father was missing was more than he could stomach but every month he called her home and gave her another disappointing update that Leonard wasn't coming home yet. He made one update call the first month he was riding a desk instead of the Enterprise and promptly pulled the ripcord on any future disappointment by telling her someone else had to look for Leonard. She wasn't the first thing on her mind when Pike told him they had found Leonard and shamefully he doesn't know if she's been told anything real now. This is the person Leonard thought could raise his kid?

He needs to get back to the hospital and stare at those walls for awhile because he sure isn't helping there. Nothing he does seems to put Leonard at ease or make the situation better. If anything, Leonard seems to be more worked up when Jim is around. The closest they can get to calm is submissive to the nursing staff. And that's mostly accomplished with a constant sedative.

Jim's found a whole new level of uselessness. Can't command a starship, can't help his friend, can't bring himself to watch a vid. The prospect of walking into medical without having heard Leonard's message feels like a cheat.

If Leonard can survive out there in the hands of slavers for a year, Jim can press play on a god damn vid. Jim opts for some liquid courage first; he has quite the empty bottle collection accumulating. It takes a little more than a fifth of whiskey to find that courage.

Jim recognizes their dorm room in the background as Leonard seats himself in front of the camera. He can't help but wonder exactly when Leonard did this. Was it during their first year, when most of Jim's demons were still hidden? Their second year when it was well established Jim was a reckless son of a bitch with the aptitude to find trouble? Early in their third year, before the universe got turned over on its head?

"Well here we are," starts Leonard, looking about as uncomfortable as Jim feels. "I'm going to assume I didn't make it and you're left to pick up the pieces, Jim. Not how most people would see that one playin' out but I'm glad you made it kid." Leonard looks really genuine in his sentiment.

Hearing new words in Leonard's voice, whole sentences Jim's never heard before, for a moment, just a moment, it's like having him back. Leonard's southern drawl sends chills down Jim's spine. It's been so long since he's heard that voice, since Leonard looked at him and smiled. Every syllable guts him, flaying him open for death's vultures to pick his carcass clean.

"Whatever happened, it wasn't your fault, Jim. Whether you were there or not. So don't waste time blamin' yourself. I know you did your best."

Jim's best looks a lot like failure this time. He swallows hard, his throat suddenly impossibly dry. He saved the universe from a time travelling Romulan and somehow couldn't pull out a win against his friend being kidnapped by essentially space pirates.

"I'm gonna need you to start taking care of yourself now, Jim. I just need to know that you'll be alright and this ain't the start of some reckless spiral cause I ani't there to put you back together, kid. And I need you to be good." There's pain and sadness in Leonard's eyes like he's a god damn profit of all things Kirk and the tarot cards are all laid out on the table. "You saved me on that shuttle in Riverside, in ways you can't even begin to imagine. And I wouldn't change any of it."

"Bones!" comes Jim's voice on the video and Leonard turns to glance towards what would have been the door of their dorm. "I found out from Gaila that that cute nursing student you refuse to introduce me to is going to be out with a bunch of friends celebrating tonight and we have to go."

"I'll be there in a minute," Leonard barks, waving his hand dismissively. "I've got to finish something."

"Do extracurricular assignments on your own time," whines Jim as he pulls on a clean shirt.

"This is my own time, you enfant." Leonard give the camera a look like this is exactly what he was talking about.

"I got to go, but listen to me. You're destined for great things, just when you finally get that Captain's seat, be careful."

"Are you still studying? Did you not hear me? It's time to blow off some steam and…"

"Damn it, Jim, I'm a doctor not a bar star." The vid ends, cutting off what was a good night. Jim would give anything to go back and relieve that night or any other before he answered that fake distress call. Jim would change, he'd change all of it. Leonard was so busy knowing what's good for everyone else, he failed to realize that Jim was an all consuming cancer that was going to end his life all too soon.

The screen flickers and comes alive again. It's their dorm again but about a year later. Leonard's sitting on the couch and through the dim light of the dorm, Jim can just make out his leg hanging off the side of his bed in the background. There's a lump in Leonard's bed and given the presence of glitter in his hair, Jim can assume Joanna was over for the weekend.

"I have something to ask you," say Leonard, quiet so he doesn't wake Joanna or Jim. It would have been unlikely, they were both in a sugar comma from spending the day at the fair. Jim only tagged along because he had some assignments he was trying to avoid and Leonard had said Joanna needed someone to go on rides with. Leonard looks hesitant, pursing his lips and do that thing where he scratches at the palm of his hand when he's uncomfortable talking about something. "I should have asked you before this. Hell, I should have done it in person, but I can't bring myself to hear you say no. That probably makes me a coward."

The apologetic and unsure look on Leonard's face, ignites a fire of irritation in Jim. There isn't anything Leonard could ask of him that Jim would deny if it was truly important to Leonard.

"The most important thing to me is Joanna and if I'm not there for her someone has to be. And I can't think of anyone better than you," implores Leonard.

Jim scoffs. He's not parent material. This video alone is proof; the adult is in the living room tending to adult matters while the 'children' are passed out in the back from playing too hard. He doesn't even have a good example of his own to reference. His dad died when he was born and his mother was rarely around. And on the rare occasion she blessed the Kirk household with her presence, she was checked out mentally.

Jim can see the weight he's feeling pressing down on Leonard in the vid. Clearly Leonard gave this preposterous idea thought. Somewhere down the line Jim gave him the horrible impression that Jim's capable of being responsible and parental to another human being. He really wishes he hadn't made that mistake.

Leonard lets out a long breath. "I've changed my will. You may think there's adventure out there, but I stand by my assessment of space and all its dangers. Again, if you have this vid then you've seen a lawyer and know I've named you as guardian to Joanna. I know it's the coward's way of asking, doing it when I ain't giving you the option to tell me no, but there's no one else I trust and I need you to do this for me Jim. I'll understand if you give up that right; it's a hell of a thing to ask somebody. I just needed to believe the best person would be looking out for her when I was gone and you're that person Jim, even if you don't believe you are. You're a good man, Jim and I know you have it in you to do this." Leonard wrings his hands in the ensuing silence.

The vid ends and Jim sits there numbly. He was already drowning and now Leonard's managed to tie two anchors around his feet. Jim's not father material. He's so far from it, Leonard should have had his head examined the second the notion came to him. He's failed Leonard and now Leonard's given him the power to fail Joanna too.

* * *

The halls are dark, lit only with simulated evening light. The quietness is eerie but given the hour, Jim didn't expect a crowd. Visiting hours have long since lapsed and medical has settled into night crew management mode.

Jim can't sleep; the weight of the universe is pressing down on his chest making it impossible to find a moment's peace. He wanders slowly down the hall careful to avoid any nurses that might send him home for the night. Alcohol doesn't settle his demons anymore; he knows he tried tonight. All Jim has to show for a night of drinking at home is a wobbly gait that has him staggering slightly to the right. He couldn't even find comfort in the arms of a willing stranger since that bastard Pike sent the Enterprise senior staff to stake out all the potential bars Jim would have tried tonight. For someone who claimed to be done with Jim's shit, the man certainly has no problem employing others to do his dirty work.

So Jim's slightly impaired brain has concocted the idea to try sleeping in Leonard's room, just like the old days before Jim got himself reassigned to be Leonard's dorm mate. Legal authority comes with access to Leonard's files and with that most of his codes which happened to include Leonard's medical overrides which carry weight at Starfleet medical. Since Leonard doesn't seem capable of feeding himself at the moment, some short sighted individual failed to remove Leonard's access privileges, a fact Jim is more than willing to exploit tonight.

He enters the code into the door and slips inside. It's dark enough inside to allow the patient to sleep but there's enough light that the nurses can come in and check on things if need be. Jim hangs by the door so as not to crowd Leonard who's lying on his stomach with his head facing the door; just like Jim left him the other day.

Leonard stares at Jim warily but doesn't move a muscle. Every once in a while he blinks his owlishly big eyes. That and the slow rise and fall of his chest are the only signs of life he exhibits.

Jim leans against the wall, sliding down it until he's sitting on the floor. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Bones," he confesses in a soft whisper. He has Spock to discuss strategy with, or did until Jim decided he had no line when it came to finding Leonard. They took away Spock's council when they took the Enterprise. He had Leonard for everything else until that was violently snatched away. Jim's been on his own ever since, only now that he's known the company of other's he cares for, does he truly know what it's like to be alone.

Tears burn at his eyes as he realizes no response is forth coming. No more late night musings over drinks, no more lectures about reckless behaviour, no more complaining about space or federation technologies.

Jim can't take the silence. He'll fill it, even if it's just with his voice. "I saw Joanna yesterday. She looks good, happy even. She'd love to come and see you." It's probably just his imagination but something seems to change in Leonard's eyes at the mention of Joanna's name; nothing really tangible, just a glint that didn't seem to be there before. As quickly as it appears it disappears.

"Had the misfortune of seeing Jocelyn too. I have to ask, what were you thinking? Of all people… I figured you out of anyone could recognize evil when in its presence." Jim waits for a response; he can't help it. He and Leonard used to talk everyday- about the big things, the little and mundane things.

Jim's always had friends, he excels at walking that fine line between love him and hate him, but he's never been exceptionally close to anyone. Mostly because the people who were supposed to be automatically on team Jim Kirk were the first to leave him- his father, his mother and then his brother. It just became safer to keep people at arm's length. And then he went and let a grump doctor get close. Now Jim's all alone again and it's all Leonard's fault. "All you had to do was get on the damn shuttle," hisses Jim. The edge in his voice is sharp, cutting through the night. "You were right there. You could have done it. You should have done it!"

Leonard frowns. It's the first time these strangers have really raised their voices to him.

Jim knows he should shut his mouth but he's on a roll now and he can't hold back the hot anger begging to get out. "You told me you couldn't leave me standing here all pathetic but that's what you've done. It just took you years to do what everyone else does. You promised you wouldn't leave. You promised!" His voice gets louder with each accusation; his fist punctuation each point by slamming against the floor. "And Joanna? What the hell am I supposed to do with that? I'm nobody's parent. Did you even think about her when you made that decision?"

Leonard brings one uncoordinated hand down over the edge of the bed. The bed is lower to the ground, letting his hand make contact with the floor easily. He slides a wobbly leg over the edge too, clumsily shifting his weight until he slides on to the floor. The words being levelled against him don't make sense but the tone is familiar. In a half crawl, half dragging his body, he positions himself at the man's feet. Leonard's body folds automatically, his knees pressing against his chest as he lowers his head in a bow against the floor and awaits punishment.

Jim stops his rant, the words getting tangled up in his throat with a sudden rush of sadness as he watches his best friend cower before him. His fists uncurl and with trembling fingers he reaches out, placing his hands on Leonard's shoulders. Leonard flinches hard at the soft touch but settles quickly. Slowly, Jim starts curling his fingers in the still untamed strands of Leonard's hair, quietly stroking his mane until he feels Leonard drift to sleep.


End file.
